I awakened to the sound of rushing water. I was disoriented for a moment, so lost in a haze of pleasure that I did not remember where I was. The darkness did little to aid my orientation.
Then Gawain swore close by my ear and I remembered everything. It was the silky fur lining of his cloak that cosseted me, the strength of his arm that surrounded me.
“There is water pouring into this cursed place!” he cried, then I felt him shift beside me. He leaped to his feet, then scooped me up into his arms, his cloak still wrapped around me. My feet were wet, as were my hips and the wool of my kirtle that had lain beneath me. I could smell the dank water gathering on the stone floor, hear it running, and feel its chill.
“It must be raining,” I said as calmly as I could. My heart was racing, for I
